Steve Mason, 45, camps in a sliver of woods in Portland. Marvin Williams, 54, sleeps at the mission in the city's Old Town district.

Neither is Catholic, but both consider the St. Vincent de Paul Downtown Chapel in Portland their daytime home. Each is willing to talk about the stark lessons of poverty.

The men are among dozens of homeless or low-income chapel guests who serve as impromptu teachers for retreat groups spending a day at the chapel. The one-day retreats are meant to be an opportunity for participants to recognize their own need for God and to learn compassion.

"I don't choose this," said Mason, whose work making mattresses and box springs disappeared two years ago in a company downsizing. The job loss and the death of his mother were hard to bear, and Mason even considered suicide.

He bears the pain now in part by coming to the chapel, housed in a three-story building that used to be a hotel. In addition to going to Mass, he frequents the art workshop on the second floor. There, he quietly writes poetry and journal entries while other homeless people play guitars or paint pictures.

Mason accepts no government handouts, certain that someone else needs it more.

Williams lost his job as a mover before landing on the streets. "Homeless people can be very irritable," he said, sitting in a soft chair in the chapel's basement, a place known as the hospitality center. "There is a lot of pushing and shoving. It's not much fun."

During a stint on the streets when he was looking for work, Williams was hit by a car. He has rods in his legs and a collarbone that aches. The smile of the chapel volunteers and the warm coffee make him feel safe.

In the chapel, Holy Cross Father Ron Raab met with a small retreat group. "When we place poverty in front of our face, it does something to us," he said. "It challenges us; it makes us afraid. Sometimes it overwhelms us.

"But if we realize these are the things that lead us to God, we develop a unity with people and are transformed," Father Raab said. "A sense of poverty can be a starting place for serving others."

The handful of visitors from parishes around the area shadow the chapel's staff and regular volunteers, welcoming guests in from the rain.

Sister Anna Hertel, who was there for a retreat, helped serve coffee, bagels and vegetables in the hospitality center.

"It (helping out) does something for you; it brings joy," said Sister Anna, a member of the Sisters of St. Mary of Oregon.

A veteran educator, she now is a pastoral associate at St. Clare Parish in Portland. She said she hoped to bring the day's experience back to her parish and the sisters.

As they warm up, the guests who come in from the city streets can also request prescription aid, bus tickets, laundry vouchers and other help. On some days, there are free haircuts and even foot care. On Friday nights, the chapel serves a free buffet in the lobby.

About 200 to 300 people per month get clothing --- mostly socks and underwear donated at Catholic parishes each year on what is called "Undie Sunday." In the winter, blankets are in short supply.

The chapel personnel appreciate the charity and could not get along without it. But the retreats invite Catholics --- or anyone --- to take the next step. The hope is to create friendships with the poor and let poverty do its work on souls.

"It's not about fixing anyone's problem," Father Raab told retreat participants. "It is becoming one with them. People are people. The only difference is that some of us have more stuff."

About 60 or 70 people come to the chapel each day for service, prayer and quiet.

Joan Schindler, who works at a downtown credit union, was ready to put faith into action. She spent some of her retreat in the art room admiring the work of the chapel's homeless guests.

The welcoming atmosphere of the day illustrated for her that God's love is freely and liberally given through other people. "I feel a lot of God's love here," Schindler said. "You don't need to do anything to be loved by God. God already loves you."

She said she wanted to find a way to bring God's love to work. It would take overcoming fear, she thought, but the chapel retreat made her feel braver.

---CNS